Claudia with a C
by Adara's Rose
Summary: "No matter how the wind may blow, you belong to me Like the mountains to the sky." Her name was going to be Claudia, because it worked with either surname. But the icy waters took her away, and her loss changed everything.
1. delay

It was supposed to be a special night, Oswald thought as he threw away the food he couldn't stand eating. He'd even cooked, even though he wasn't much of a cook. But he had wanted to do this. It was, after all, what was expected of him. A sweet, obedient little omega, waiting at home for his big strong alpha. Well, that was the stereotype anyway. Not that he or Ed really gave a damn about stereotypes. But still. A special night.

But now it was midnight and Ed still hadn't showed up. He'd called three times, but- no reply. Not even a text. It was strange. Oswald didn't like it. It made him feel needy, small, insecure. He _hated_ feeling like that. He hadn't allowed himself those feelings since his mother died. But maybe it was true what they said, once your life changed in the way his was going to change, you changed too. He pressed his hands to his stomach, fancying he could feel a tiny flutter of a presence. It was ridiculous of course, she was too tiny to move about so that he'd feel it. But he had a picture of her, even if it barely showed more than a grainy… _thing_. And still, it had been enough for him to fall head over heels for that tiny blob. Almost as fast as he had fallen for her father.

He wondered what she'd look like, when she was born. If Ed would like the name he'd picked out. But it sounded good, didn't it? Claudia Nygma. Because she'd take his name, right? Even if they weren't married. They'd get married, once he'd told Ed that they were having a baby.

But where was he?


	2. vindication

It was supposed to be a special night, Oswald thought as he threw away the food he couldn't stand eating. He'd even cooked, even though he wasn't much of a cook. But he had wanted to do this. It was, after all, what was expected of him. A sweet, obedient little omega, waiting at home for his big strong alpha. Well, that was the stereotype anyway. Not that he or Ed really gave a damn about stereotypes. But still. A special night.

But now it was midnight and Ed still hadn't showed up. He'd called three times, but- no reply. Not even a text. It was strange. Oswald didn't like it. It made him feel needy, small, insecure. He _hated_ feeling like that. He hadn't allowed himself those feelings since his mother died. But maybe it was true what they said, once your life changed in the way his was going to change, you changed too. He pressed his hands to his stomach, fancying he could feel a tiny flutter of a presence. It was ridiculous of course, she was too tiny to move about so that he'd feel it. But he had a picture of her, even if it barely showed more than a grainy… _thing_. And still, it had been enough for him to fall head over heels for that tiny blob. Almost as fast as he had fallen for her father.

He wondered what she'd look like, when she was born. If Ed would like the name he'd picked out. But it sounded good, didn't it? Claudia Nygma. Because she'd take his name, right? Even if they weren't married. They'd get married, once he'd told Ed that they were having a baby.

But where was he?


	3. need

"You killed her."

There was nothing but stone cold fury in Ed's voice, and Oswald felt the chill into his bones. Claudia shifted, trembled. He could sense her fear.

"Ed-" he begged desperately, but the other man clearly had no interest in listening.

"I loved her, and you _killed_ her."

Oswald wanted to reply, but the words stuck in his mouth. _I had to_ , he wanted to scream. _She was taking you away. I need you. Claudia needs you._ Except Ed didn't know about Claudia yet. And as he faced down that gun, he wondered if there was any point in telling Ed about her. Maybe it'd be easier for Ed to move on if he didn't know. He hadn't told anyone else, after all. The only evidence of her existence was the sonogram picture he'd hidden in his bedside drawer.

"Ed-" he tried, but all he got was the uncocking of the gun.

"You need me!" He cried desperately, "Like I need you!" _Like Claudia needs you._

"You're wrong" Ed replied coldly, his eyes those horrible, horrible dead sapphires.

"I don't need you."

And as he fell backwards into the ice cold water, Oswald had time for one lone thought before his world faded away. _But Claudia needs me._


	4. loss

The first thing Oswald saw when he opened his eyes, was a redhaired woman. She was very pretty, he noted in an abstract way. Breathing in deeply, he caught the scent of _alpha_ but it didn't give him the usual urge of obeying whatever she told him to do. It was the one part he truly hated about being an omega. That instinctive obedience. Perhaps he was immune now that he had a pup growing under his heart. So he was alive, then. Cold, confused, but alive.

"Hi" the alpha said bluntly. "I made you soup." There was an unnamed command _-eat it-_ there, and Oswald found himself obeying. He blamed it on hunger.

"Who are you?" He asked once he'd finished the soup, which was actually pretty good for only having vegetables in it.

"I'm Ivy." the alpha said, "and you're Oswald Cobblepot. Rumours of your death are clearly highly overblown."

He laughed, hysterically, bitterly. "No, I'm not dead." He looked down at himself, dressed in a snug t-shirt that was clearly made for a woman. He frowned. His stomach wasn't supposed to be flat; he'd started showing. Why wasn't there a bump? He started to tremble as a terrifying suspicion grew in his mind, and he looked up at the alpha -Ivy- with wide, pleading eyes.

The downturned twist to her mouth told him everything. She didn't even have to speak. But she did anyway.

"I'm sorry. It didn't make it."


	5. end

He didn't know the doctor's name and he didn't want to know it. She was a beta woman with soft hands and hard eyes, and her name didn't matter.

"Name" she ordered, not letting go of her clipboard. Ivy glared at her.

"Os. He's mine." Except he wasn't, but it'd raise too many questions as to why he was in a clinic with an alpha he wasn't bonded to. It was bullshit, but the prejudice against unbonded omegas was still strong. Especially in this doctor, who looked at Oswald like he was something the cat had dragged in.

It was clear that the doctor didn't believe Ivy's claim one bit, but she just as obviously didn't care.

"You should have brought him in immediately when he miscarried." She said instead. Ivy scowled.

"Yeah well excuse me for prioritizing saving his life!"

"Not much of a life, that one can't give you pups anymore. You should get rid of him."

Oswald stared blankly at the doctor, not comprehending. He pressed his hands to his stomach, his stomach that was flat when it shouldn't be. He couldn't feel her.

He turned his head to look at Ivy, the only ally he had in the shitstorm he found himself the center of.

"Claudia" he whispered, and he saw in her eyes that he didn't need to say anything else. She placed her hand carefully over his.

"I know." she said, quietly.


	6. Reverence

It was a pretty morning, and the young omega mother was taking her baby out for a walk in the park. It was a bit chilly, but she'd bundled them both up tight so they'd be alright. As she walked down the street, she saw a dark haired man sit on the stairs of the house of that alpha woman with all the pretty flowers. She recognised him, but couldn't place him. Maybe he just had one of those faces. He looked so heartbreakingly lost where he sat, so when she walked past she stopped and said hello.

He didn't answer, just stared at the stroller with a look in his eyes she'd seen before. She worked in an omega clinic, and she'd seen that look far too many times. But it had never hit her this hard before.

"How long ago was it you lost it?" She asked before she had time to think, then immediately wanted to kick herself for the insensitive question.

"A week" he said, not looking away from the stroller. Her heart felt heavy in her chest.

"How far along were you?" She asked, even though it was none of her business.

"Far enough" he said as he stood up slowly, still staring at the stroller. At her baby, looking up at the brightly coloured mobile twirling slowly in the gentle breeze. "Can I-?"

And the needy look in his eyes ripped her heart to shreds, so she picked up her baby girl and carefully placed her in the broken omega's arms. He cradled the infant with unending tenderness. Like a priceless treasure.

"There's nothing now" he said, more to the baby than her. Like he'd already forgotten her presence. "He… left me. No alpha. No pup. I can't have any more." He looked up then, pleading.

"I'll never have this" he said, with a solemn finality that made her start to cry as she reached for her baby, her baby who was alive and warm and there and his wasn't. But he handed back the baby anyway, whispering "thank you" and she rocked her baby and cried for his.


	7. Absence

It was the scent that first clued him into something being different. Victor had always had a sharp nose, which was of great use in his line of work. And since that jerk Nygma had nearly killed the boss, he'd smelled different. But it still made exactly zero sense no matter how he tried to find out what the change was, and if there was one thing he didn't like it was a mystery. He knew the Penguin was an omega, hell everyone knew that. It was part of why he was so feared; to be able to completely go against the nurturing, protecting instincts of the omega should have been impossible. And yet, there he was.

If Victor hadn't been an alpha of principles, he'd have been between Cobblepot's legs within the hour of Nygma fucking up the first time. Knotted him good, filled him up with puppies. That's when it hit him. _Puppies._ That was the smell that was different. The boss didn't smell like puppies anymore.

"Well fuck Nygma" he muttered as he cleaned his favourite gun, "what did you do? And how many pieces am I going to chop you into when I find out?"

After all, the boss was his favourite omega. He only considered murdering him about once per week. Still, he was completely unprepared for the red haired alpha bitch getting all up in his face snarling about how he'd better back the fuck off or she'd shove his gun up his ass, though.

"Look I didn't do shit" he protested, "So calm the fuck down, alright?"

She frowned at him. "You didn't knock Os up?" She said, not fully believing him.

"Hell no, I only fuck omegas who want me to fuck them. He's taken."

"Then who." she demanded.

"Nygma, I expect. Why're you so damn pissed at him anyway? Not the first time an alpha's knotted and ditched." He had experience.

Her face, which was admittedly pretty, twisted in fury.

"Her name was Claudia." she spat before turning on her heel and storming off.

"Who the fuck is Claudia?" Victor yelled after her.

He didn't get a reply.


	8. Comprehension

Edward came home late, crankier than normal. Another plan to get the penguin had failed spectacularly, but it hadn't been his fault this time. Fuck no, if that beta bitch Barbara had just kept her trap shut- but no. Of course not. And Oswald who should have been dead weeks ago was _still alive and kicking_. He yanked the door to his apartment open with a snarl, mostly wanting to rip out someone's throat. With his teeth.

There was a bouquet of flowers on his kitchen table.

For a moment, Edward stood frozen, staring at it blankly. His consternation made him forget his anger, if only for a moment. He walked over to the flowers, noting the white envelope. He picked it up, turning it over. A plain white envelope, of the kind you could get in any stationary store anywhere. It meant nothing. He opened it, pulling out the contents. It was a photo of some kind, but too damn grainy to make out anything but a whiteish-grey blob. He turned it over, noting the handwriting. It was unfamiliar, uneven and shaky but fully legible. _My name was Claudia, and you murdered me._

It took him a moment before he understood. A sonogram. Some sick fuck had sent him a sonogram and was accusing him of murdering a baby. An unborn baby. That was bullshit, he hadn't killed any pregnant woman lately and he stayed the fuck away from omegas. Well, except for-

Ed flipped the picture back over, staring at the blob with a horrifying sinking feeling in his gut. It wasn't _possible._ Or was it?

He was an alpha, sure, but not the strong macho type all the omegas wanted. In fact, he'd only had one omega in his life. Oswald. But it couldn't be possible. Could it? No, no it wasn't. It simply _couldn't_ be possible.

He turned the card back over, hand shaking. _Claudia_ , he thought wildly. _Her name was Claudia, and I murdered her._


	9. Numb

Oswald wondered how many knew at this point. Ivy obviously, but he suspected Victor knew, too. Something in the alpha's eyes when he looked at him. On any other man, it would have been pity. But Oswald felt reasonably sure Victor was incapable of that particular emotion. It required the ability to empathise with others, and that wasn't something the assassin bothered with. And he wasn't to anymore, either. He'd been able to feel compassion once, but now all he felt was emptiness. Emptiness, and sorrow. He didn't even feel rage, even though he probably should. Maybe he would in time, when he wasn't so numb. When he stopped wanting to bawl whenever he saw anything even remotely connected to the idea that there were little people in the world. People like Claudia.

Except, no thinking about her was almost impossible. He wondered about the shape of her nose, her voice, her laugh. What would have been her favorite colour, her favourite book? Would she have been a good, sweet baby or keep him up all night just because she could? Would she have had his eyes? Or would he have seen Ed every time she looked at him?

Pointless, really. And stupid, because there was no reason to wonder. But he still did. He imagined he could see her play in Ivy's greenhouse, driving the alpha crazy but being too adorable to scold. He could see her in dirty trousers with mud in her hair, laughing. Face covered in icing and cream as she dug into her first birthday cake. He saw her everywhere, and she was nowhere. And it was Ed's fault. Oswald really wished he could be angry with him. It would have made things a whole lot easier.

He wanted to cry, but no tears came. Mother had always told him that a good cry helped with everything; just cry it out, and you'd feel better. But no matter how he tried, he couldn't cry.

He was too numb.


	10. Saudade

"Is it true?" was the first thing out of Ed's mouth and he immediately felt horrible. He could at least have said hello. But Oswald, who sat in a high-backed chair and stared into the roaring fire, didn't comment. He also didn't acknowledge Ed's presence.

Ed stormed across the room, stopping right in front of the Mayor.

"Answer me!" he yelled, but didn't know who he was angry with. Slowly, Oswald looked up. His eyes were tired, so impossibly tired.

"You're going to have to be more specific." He said, softly.

Edward pulled the picture from his pocket. "This!"

Oswald held out his hand, silently pleading. Reluctant, as if surrendering precious, Ed gave it to him.

"I've been looking for this" was the only comment, and Ed bristled.

"Well?" he insisted, "is it?"

Oswald looked at the picture.

"Her name was Claudia" he finally offered, and Ed felt his knees buckle. So it was true, then. There had been a pup. And he'd killed it.

He sank down on the rich carpet, his legs simply refusing to carry his weight any longer.

"Claudia" he whispered, the name soft and sweet in his mouth. Beautiful.

"I thought it'd sound nice no matter… no matter which surname she got." Oswald turned his head, once more staring into the fire.

"Why would you worry about her surname" Ed whispered, his voice barely carrying the words.

"I wasn't sure… after Isabella. That you'd… that you'd want us." ed's heart stuttered in his chest. God, he'd thought he'd throw away his only chance at a family? But then again, wasn't that exactly what he had done. Thrown them both away. Thrown her away.

"I'm sorry" Ed whispered, feeling tears prickle his eyes. Oswald's slender fingers stroked the sonogram, his eyes still fixed on the fire. He said nothing.

Ed stared up at him, seeing the hollowed cheeks and too-pale skin. The dark fabric of the chair nearly devoured the slender man. As if he was disappearing in front of Ed's helpless eyes. He wanted to hold him here, in this room, with him. This was his once, once Oswald would have smiled and asked him to get off the floor, chided him for ruining his clothes. But not now, not when the unborn stood between them. He could feel her presence. The ghost of the non-existent. Claudia.

"Please" Edward begged, reaching out helplessly, aching to touch and terrified to be rejected. His omega, because wasn't he still that? They'd made a baby. "Is there... Is there ever...any chance you... You could forgive me?"

The question hung between them, aching with loss and despair and desperation.

The moment stretched on and on, neverending. Ed fancied somewhere a baby cried.

Then Oswald spoke, a voice as distant as the cry. As if he wasn't there anymore, but somewhere else. Where Claudia was.

"One day. When... When I have found a way to... To look at you without seeing... Her."


End file.
